She halted in front of the tattoo parlor, pressing her nose to the cool gla.s.s of the window. The place was as dark as a black hole. She couldn't see a thing. The glare from the bronze street lamp above didn't help.

d.a.m.n!

She needed to find Psycho Sally.

She hunkered down, cupping her hands around her eyes to get a better look.

Nothing but darkness-not even a shadow.

The splinter of breaking gla.s.s startled her.

She stumbled back.

A hand clamped down on her arm.

Her heart leapt to her throat.

She spun round.

Frankie.

Thank G.o.d!

His golden hair glowed like a halo under the street lamp. "What are you doing here?" he demanded.

"Looking for my ring," she rasped, coming to her feet. "I lost it near Psycho Sally's tent. I thought maybe she picked it up. But when I realized it was gone, she'd already packed up and left. So, I came here."

"You should have told me." He looked over his shoulder. "You shouldn't have come alone!"

"I couldn't tell you?" she whispered fiercely. "Because I didn't know where you were."

"Right." He grinned. "Sorry. I meant to make it to the pier, but Cliff and I got held up."

Not a complete explanation, but he was never too good at those. "What are you doing here, Frankie?"

"Following a lead."

"Right." Something else he hadn't bothered to share. It was difficult to keep the sarcasm from her voice. "Another top secret Time Keeper mystery I guess."

"Something like that."

The sound of running feet stopped her from smiling back. "Shhh!" Evelina put a finger to her lips. "Did you hear that?"

The pad of heavy feet grew louder.

"Someone's coming." Frankie yanked her around the corner of the building.

The footfalls grew closer, accompanied by a great deal of panting.

"Shut up!" She heard a tenor voice say. It sounded like Donny.

What was the Dirty Diaper Gang doing here? It couldn't be good, whatever it was. Wherever they went, trouble followed.

Ronny knocked on the door.

"What are you doing here?" It sounded like Psycho Sally. "I told you never to come here."

"We have a message for you," Ronny said.

"Hey! What was that?"

"Did you hear that?"

"Who's there?"

"Time to go." Frankie clamped his hands around Evelina's waist. "Hang on."

No sooner had she lifted her arms around his neck did her feet leave the ground. They rose up and up and up, until the city was miles below. Evelina's head grew dizzy. Her limbs quivered. A faint giddiness encompa.s.sed every molecule of her flesh.

Flying was the best part of being a witch.

If she never learned anything else it was worth it to experience this.

Joy bubbled in her veins.

With the warmth of Frankie against her, the wind on her face, and the stars all around, her spirit soared.

She needed to learn how to fly.

Soon.

They came down like a rocket sucked to the Earth, landing on a deserted street not far from where the dune buggy was parked.

"How do you do that?" She gasped as the wind settled around them. She suspected she sounded naive and awestruck, but she couldn't help it. It was amazing! "How do you fly? I need to know."

"You'll learn soon enough." He chuckled. "It comes as you slowly gain your powers."

Evelina groaned.

More smoke and mirrors.

Apparently witchcraft wasn't an exact science. In fact, most of it was down- right frustrating. Everything seemed to hinge on some mysterious innate skills, that you might discover or you might not. She wanted to know now, not when she was so long in the tooth she croaked from a heart attack trying.

"When did you learn?"

"Training begins when you're an apprentice." He shrugged, like it was no big deal. "But witches master the skill at different times. It's best to learn from an expert."

"What about the popping thing?"

He raised a quizzical brow.

"You know, when you just appear out of thin air. Now we see you-now we don't."

He flashed a heart-stopping smile, causing her belly to flutter. "You're not ready for that yet."

"Why not?" She wasn't giving up that easy. "Who taught you?"

"Leviticus Wilkes. It's a bit different for Time Keepers."

Her recent meeting with Wilkes flashed through her brain. "So I hear."

Frankie was betrothed.

He just hadn't bothered to tell her.

"What does that mean?" He sent her a queer look.

"Nothing." She shrugged away, disentangling herself from his arms. "Not a thing."

"Are you sure? You've been acting weird all night. Are you angry or something?"

Angry didn't half begin to describe it, but there was no sense getting into it. What good would it do? "Nope. I'm good." She forced a bright smile. On the other hand curiosity was driving her wild. "But... I was wondering, why you didn't mention you were betrothed?"

Frankie flashed a startled gaze, before his golden gaze became hooded again. "I thought you knew."

A painful lump formed in her throat. "Nope." If she had, she'd have kept her distance, or at least tried to. "No. I didn't."

"It's just the way it is." His voice turned flat and cold. "It's tradition."

A pain squeezed her chest. So it was true. She nodded vaguely, like a plastic tiki doll bobbing on a dashboard. "I understand." Through the fog of numbness she managed to say, "Look, I'd better go."

"Wait!" He reached for her hand.

But she'd already turned away, saying over her shoulder, "Thanks for your help tonight."

Her limbs felt weighted and her mind cloudy as she trudged toward the dune buggy.

She drove home to the little pink beach house in a daze.

She was beat.

She'd lost her precious black pearl ring.

She'd flown up into the stars.

Then her guts had been ripped out.

It had been a long night.

The door of the cottage flung wide, before Evelina could reach for the k.n.o.b.

"Just in time for some catnip tea!" Mrs. Segal crushed Evelina to her bosom before hustling her inside. Her cherry smile soon changed to a look of concern. "My! You look done in! I might need to dig up something stronger."

Udora slashed Evelina a sidelong glance as she crumbled dried leaves into the silver teapot. She spoke in a quiet voice, as though they were the only two in the room. "You'll be alright in the morning."

"He's here!"

"Raskin Lipworth."

"Raskin Lipworth is here!"

The cove was abuzz with the news. The whispers mingled with the rush of the waterfall. Every witch at Camp Wic-A-Muck wondered if they would be questioned next.

"Oh my G.o.d!" Tally clutched Evelina's arm. "Here he comes!"

"Wow." Abby exclaimed. "Looks like he means business."

He strode toward them, scattering the crowd like a belch of smoke through a rainbow.

Evelina took a step back, avoiding the light of the firefly chandelier, hoping to melt into the jungle.

The splash of the waterfall rushed in her ears.

"Evelina Crimm?"

She swallowed hard. "Yes."

"Raskin Lipworth." He made a crisp bow. "I have a few questions for you."

"Sure," she said as casually as possible, while being interrogated by a man who appeared sprung from a d.i.c.kens' novel, complete with black frock coat and silver waistcoat. "What would you like to know?"

"Everything." His grey eyes flashed in his pale face, leaving the rest a shadow, from the tip of his glossy boots to the point of his widow's peak. He flipped open a small legal pad then clicked his shiny pen. "I must know all that happened the night of Melvin Ruggles' death."

"Okay." She relayed the evening's events with as much detail as she could, ending with, "That's all I know."

"Hmm..." Lipworth's cool gaze slid up and down her. "And you maintain you did not know him."

"No."

"Very well." He sent her a hard look. "Don't go too far, Crimm. I may need to question you again."

Evelina groaned.

When things turned bad, they turned bad fast-everything went south.

Well, he could question her all he liked. She didn't know anything, though she was trying hard to find out. Best that he didn't know that. Lipworth had the reputation of being a bit of a hard nose. He might not appreciate any interference in his investigation.